


Gyro Gearloose Doesn't Know Everything

by Drifting_Andromeda



Category: Disney Duck Universe, DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Establishing friendships, Fluff, Happy Ending, I have too many ideas, I just wanted to deep dive gyro's backstory, I may deep dive my version of dickie too, I may write a story with Scrooge and Dickie but who knows, Open Ending, also dickie's last name is O'Gilt because there's too many people with the surname Duck, cannon alteration, gyro needs some therapy, he's too stubborn to get any though, some traumatic events mentioned, there's no real romance here, this is a little messy because I banged this out at like eleven last night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 23:09:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28714797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drifting_Andromeda/pseuds/Drifting_Andromeda
Summary: After the disaster in Tokyolk Gyro Gearloose has to go back to his hometown of Duckburg and face the consequences, fortunately a nice barista ends up changing his view on a few things.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 14





	Gyro Gearloose Doesn't Know Everything

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, as mention in the tags, I wrote this in one sitting at 11 pm last night. I edited it a little bit, but I've been doing finals so there may be a few mistakes. This was heavily inspired by Gyro's strangely endearing friendship with Dickie Duck that has appeared in the comics. And, just in case you skipped it, Dickie's last name is O'Gilt here because it makes more sense for the story I have for her in my head, and the fact that there are so many dang Duck's in the Disney Duckverse.  
> Anyway, enjoy!

After the disaster in Tokyolk, it took a while for Gyro to really get his feet under him again. 

He was cleared of all charges, but not everyone was willing to believe that so easily. Going back to America, attending the college he had already spent two years at, one that he took a gap year in to intern with Akita. It should have been easy to walk back to, it should have been familiar. But it wasn’t.

People had heard the stories, of course they had, people watched and kept their distance. Those who didn’t know who he was were quickly warned of his past deeds. A month in he got a random death threat in his dorm, a dorm that quickly became empty as no one wanted to room with him. And after his dad had passed a few years back he didn't have the money to move off campus. 

Four months in he was at the top of his class, and the bottom of his emotional stability. Nightmares plagued him of the chaos and destruction he caused, the people who got hurt and lost almost everything. Of 2-BO, turning sour and getting shot down by the police force and the Japanese army. Watching his first real experiment, something that was so close to being perfect, alive. Get shot down and shipped off for scrap. If nothing else the poor boy's fate was his biggest regret.

Four months in he learned to play offense, learning how to attack people verbally to leave him alone emotionally and physically. He grew up with bullying, for being weird, for being trans, for being attracted to men, for being too smart. Hell his whole life he’d been nitpicked from everyone and everything. He should have been used to it by now, but having an invention go rogue and destroy everything, was a little different.

He placed himself at the top, became jaded and sarcastic to keep himself safe. It caused people to dislike him even more, but now they couldn’t dismiss how brilliant he was. 

He was in his own little bubble, away from the world, pushing everyone out. It was hard to get used to, but eventually he began to accept that this was going to be his place in the world. A genius with walls so high it would take astronauts to get over them. He learned to ignore people who didn’t matter, not answering people when they asked dumb questions, not even acknowledging when someone unimportant walks into the room.

Six months into it he was basically a professional. Until he was in line to get a coffee at Starducks. It was snowing outside and well below twenty degrees fahrenheit. All he wanted was a nice, hot, black coffee and then go back to his makeshift ‘lab’ (which was really just an untouched corner of the chemistry classroom) back in the university. 

He was already miserable, and the nipping cold was just an added bonus. Well, that and the fact that the older woman in front of him was taking forever to order. He forgot his phone back in his room, so all he could do to try and pass time was stare at the menu and reread the options over and over. It was either that or go over more calculations in his head, but doing so could result in him falling asleep standing up.

The chatter in the cafe was like something out of a movie. A scene in an airport or a busy street, voices mingling together like they were always meant to do so. He was used to the chatter. School, especially the years when you had to surrender your own technology first thing in the morning, was full of useless chatter. 

Though, in all of his years existing in the chatter, he’s never heard it die down faster than it did in that very moment.

A door that read ‘employees only’ that was located behind the counter exploded open like someone had just fired a cannonball through it. All chatter died down and eyes glanced towards the frantic looking girl who hurried out of the door.

She was still putting her hair up when she went to the other register and swiped the closed sign off with her elbow. She didn’t even pay attention to the eyes that stared at her for a moment more. Shaking herself like a wet dog she straightened up and put on her best smile. “I can help you over here!”

Gyro blinked, a little tired, a little surprised, but stepped forward either way. He pulled down his scarf to make his order. “Large black coffee.”

The girl blinked, taken a back slightly, but recovered to type the order in. “Is that all?” He just nodded. “Your total will be two dollars and forty five cents, are you a-”

“No, I’m not a rewards member, and I don’t want to be.” He dropped the exact amount on the counter and promptly shoved his hands back in his pockets.

The girl blew some loose strands of hair out her face and tallied up the money. “And, if you’ll be so kind, what's your name?”

He didn’t like her tone, “Gyro.”

She smiled one of the fakest smiles he’s ever seen, “Great. I’ll call it when it's done.” With that she turned her back on him and he stepped over to the counter where the drink would come. 

It only took a moment, maybe a little too long, but the same blonde girl called out his name and then abandoned the drink. He grabbed it and went to tear the little receipt off, but a handwritten note caught his attention.

‘Doesn’t hurt to tip!’ was written in scribbled, fast paced cursive. It looked like a third grader wrote it.

He scowled and side eyed the girl who was totally immersed in what the couple she was now serving wanted. He threw the note away and left.

Four days later he came back in, Starducks was forty minutes away from closing but he planned to pull an all-nighter for his new chemistry project. 

The whole ambience of the store was different. There were maybe nine other people all staring at books or clunky laptops. Half of which had some sort of headphones or noise canceling device on. 

Unfortunately his idea of a quick pop in was ruined the second he saw who the only cashier was. The blonde girl was leaning against the other side of the counter with her back to him. It looked like she was doodling on one of the styrofoam cups. Just the idea of a marker on one of those cups was enough to make Gyro cringe. 

He stepped up to the counter and crossed his arms across his chest. “Ahem.”

The girl leaned back and looked at him, craning her neck to do so. “Oh. It’s you.” She stood up and turned so she was facing him again. Putting down the doodled covered cup she was drawing on in between them. “Are you getting the same thing you did last time or are you trying to step out of your comfort zone this time.” She propped her chin on her hands like a bored student. 

“You’re really not funny.”

“And you’re really not intimidating.” He didn’t show it, he knew he didn’t, but internally he was a little shocked. The past few months he was always able to verbally tear someone down enough for them to just leave him alone. This girl though, she seemed to have a sharp tongue, maybe even sharper than himself.

He just rolled his eyes, “Just get me a large black coffee.”

“Please?”

“Now. Before I leave.”

She scoffed, grabbing a large cup and turning around to make the drink. “Real threatening. I work in customer service, I’m one of thousands who work for this company. I, along with every other person in my position, wouldn’t care a bit if you left.”

“Would you care if I told your manager about your attitude?”

She actually laughed out loud at that, “Wow! You sound like a middle aged white lady saying that! My manager is younger than me, I seriously doubt she’ll care.”

She put the coffee down on the counter next to her doodle cup but didn’t let go of it. “Two forty five.”

He gave her the exact amount, and she counted it right there in her palm. Eventually she tsked, “Still no tip? Pity.” She slid the cup over and turned to the register, the conversation was over. Hopefully, it’ll stay over. 

For the next month he went to a different coffee place. It was cheaper (and worse) but it was still coffee. It was still a way to prevent himself from falling asleep and dreaming of Tokyolk. Of dreaming of the courtroom. Of 2-BO. Of every little thing that was wrong with him and why he deserved to be as miserable as he was. And anything to prevent that, well, anything to prevent that was good enough for him. 

He hadn’t even thought of the snarky barista since he left the Starducks. He thought he would never see her again and be left alone in his little bubble. Unfortunately, and apparently, the universe hates him enough to go and do the exact opposite. 

It was almost midnight. After days of not sleeping he decided to turn in early, well ‘early’ in his standards. No one else should have been wandering around, the classrooms were all dark and the only lights were the flickering moth attracting luminescent lights in the hallways.

He crossed the small yard to go to the boys dormitories to try and fall into a dreamless, hopefully restful sleep, but as he walked into the dormitory building he knew he wasn’t going to get any of that. 

Pressing the button for the elevator he took the few seconds he had to review a few notes. Seeing the door to his left light up and ding to let him know it was available. Still reading his notes he took the first few steps towards the entrance of the elevator, only to collide with a smaller force.

It wasn’t that bad of a collison, he only dropped three pages of notes, and both parties stayed on their feet. He blinked and let his distance vision clear, the person he ran into had knelt down to give him his notes. They stood up and handed them to him, shock on her face once she realized who he was. 

“Oh, sorry.” The same barista blinked and shoved her hands in her jean jackets pockets. Her eyes looked red and puffy. 

“Uh.” He wasn’t sure what to say. People crying had always made him uncomfortable. He never knew how to comfort them properly. “I didn’t know you went here.”

She sighed, refusing to make eye contact, he didn’t mind that part. “First year.” She mumbled.

He swallowed, “Are. Are you ok?” It was awkward, he was awkward. He was tired and balancing binders and clipboards and manila folders of notes. There was a literal wall between the two strangers. 

She rubbed her eyes, making the red more prominent, and looked up. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t, look fine?”

She rolled her eyes, “Thanks, I’m aware.” His arms were about to snap. 

“Do you want to talk about it? Maybe?”

She actually chuckled at that, crinkling her face with a small smile. “Thanks, but not with you. I only know your name and coffee order.” That was a good point, either way he was relieved that she didn’t want to talk. He would just be even more awkward. Not to mention if she didn’t know him then she didn’t know what he did in Tokyolk.

Deciding he couldn’t take much more he put the small pile of notes and work on the floor between them. “That's more than I know about you.”

She mimicked his stance, “Do you want to know about me?”

He thought for a moment, “Not really.”

To this she burst out in a laughing fit that ended with a snort. “You’re funny, honest, but funny.” She side stepped his pile of notes and started walking backwards towards the door. “But in case you ever need it, the names Dickie.” With that she twirled around on her heel and walked out the dormitory. 

He hit the elevator button again and picked his stuff up. “Funny?” He repeated with a hint of disgust.

Life went on, but now Dickie kept popping up randomly. She would appear in the hallway, in the entrance of the science building, even the front lawn when he was trying to collect some bark for an experiment.

“It’s twenty degrees outside.” He said. “Why are you wandering around in bell bottoms?” Dickie, he’d come to learn, had an odd fascination with the seventies and eighties. Dressing like a flower power hippie whenever she could, tie dye, round sunglasses, and all.

She stood next to him, watching him carefully peel the bark off of a pacific yew like a hawk. “I have a free period after lunch and I like walking around.”

“Why would it matter if you have a free period? From what I can tell you skip class everyday.”

She snorted, “Only the boring classes.”

“Which are?”

“Math, history. You know, the classic boring classes.”

“That's a matter of opinion.” He muttered, putting his gloves back on once the sample was safely enclosed. It had only been a few weeks since they ran into each other at the elevator, but somehow she had wormed herself into his bubble. She had found a crack in his walls and was slowly chipping away at it. 

Maybe other people had found cracks, but he either pushed them away or they gave up on their own. So to see Dickie still continue to try was kind of mind boggling. Besides the snarkiness and the surprising talent she had of talking back to anyone, she was pretty much the exact opposite of him.

She was ditzy and a bit of an airhead, still having to hold up her hands in the shape of an L to tell her right from her left. She was energetic and surprisingly sweet, she could be a little absent minded and not really listen to a person, but when she puts in the effort she's a really nice person. So why she chose to hang around Gyro was an enigma.

Then again, why he continued to let her was an enigma as well. She wasn’t helpful in anything scientific. Usually asking random dumb questions that made him want to stab her with his pencil. She was a nuisance and one of the biggest distractions in Callisota, but he found himself welcoming her anyway.

Maybe it was because she reminded him of 2-BO and what he could have become. Maybe isolating himself for so long made him lose his mind and take whatever he could get. 

Eventually she found his dorm room and made herself at home. Keeping records and makeup in an empty corner and calling it her little ‘getaway corner.’ He protested at first, but she was convincing when she wanted to be. 

The weeks grew into months and it wasn’t until the sun started hanging in the sky a lot longer did Gyro realize, Dickie was his only real friend. And he didn’t really know anything about her.

She liked music, she was a creative writing major, minoring in business, and she loved older movies. Besides the facts already listed, that was it, not even her last name. It bothered him for a week or two, not a whole lot though. It was like he had some sort of sharp object in his sock that he kept forgetting to get rid of. Certain days he forgot about it, certain days it rattled around his head like a maraca.

Though, like Dickie always seemed to do, one night she seemed to read his mind. “Wanna play twenty questions?”

He was working on fixing a lamp he had accidentally elbowed off his desk, he was trying to fix the wires that held the lightbulb while the stand dried. “Twenty questions?” He repeated. “You do realize we’re not babies anymore right?”

“You act like a baby.” She muttered, but continued before he could say anything. “Oh come on, it’s not like we’re doing anything else important.”

“I’m fixing my lamp.”

“That’s not important.” They locked eyes, it was a challenge. First to look away lost, that’s how it had been between them. One person would say something and then they’d have a staring contest to decide if that person was right or not. 

This time, like many other times, he lost. “Ugh fine, whatever.”

She clapped and sat down on the floor besides his bed, he stayed in his desk chair. “I’ll go first. What’s your last name?”

“It’s Gearloose.”

She nodded, “Good to know, now you ask me a question.”

“Yes, I remember how to play from when I was twelve.” She rolled her eyes but made a move on gesture with her hand. “Ok, what’s your last name?”

“Ugh, you can’t ask the same question I did.”

“I really don’t have any other questions.”

She rolled her eyes, “O’Gilt. What’s your favorite band?”

“Don’t have one.” She didn’t look impressed.

“You are the least fun person to play this with.” He just shrugged, “What about the Beagles? You listen to them sometimes.”

“Sure, but I wouldn’t say they’re my favorite.”

“For both of our sakes, we’re gonna pretend they are.” She readjusted her sitting position. “Lets change this up, now we’ll say facts about ourselves, no matter how boring.”

“Fine, you won’t shut up unless we do something of the sort.”

She fake pouted but continued anyway, “My birthday is December 18th.”

“Mine’s May 14th.”

“Are you just going to repeat the same facts I say?”

“Most likely.”

She rolled her eyes, “My mom’s name is Ruby.”

“My dad’s name is Fulton.”

“Didn’t know your mom?”

“Didn’t know your dad?” He shot back. 

She rubbed the back of her neck, “Well, this may be a bit TMI, but I was a product of a Mama Mia situation. My mom slept with three different guys and then I was born. She took me to one of the guys funerals after a boating accident. She always said that he was probably the most likely candidate, but it was an open casket and I didn’t see the resemblance.”

Realizing what she just said may be a bit too much she curled in on herself, forcing a laugh. “Sorry, too much.”

“It’s whatever.” He thought for a moment. “You don’t know about what happened in Tokyolk, do you?”

“You mean that robot you built with that Akita guy destroying the city?” She said it so casually, like he put the dishes away wrong, not that he was the cause for such a great devastation.

“You knew?”

“I complained to my roommate about you the first day at the cafe, she told me all about it.”

“You’ve known for that long?” She nodded, and he felt conflicted. “If you knew what I did… Why do you keep hanging around me?”

“Like I said, you are not intimidating. Besides, I don’t really care. You were proven innocent weren’t you? You’re not dangerous. At least I don’t think you are.” It felt so weird to hear someone say that. After months of convincing himself that he was in fact, dangerous. 

His first thought was that she should be scared, she should be worried. Everything he’s touched in recent times seemed to go rogue eventually. And yeah, she was annoying, but Dickie was genuinely a nice person. She got through to almost everyone, a skill Gyro lacked severely in.

So why shouldn’t he cut her off? For her own safety? 

At the same time though, she may have a point. If a whole court of people decided he’s innocent, maybe he really is.

They dropped the game after that, Gyro claiming he didn’t feel good. Dickie teased him to eat more, but left either way, catching the hint. She was good at that, reading the room and trying to respond with what she thought best. 

He could spend all day listing her faults, but he could spend the same amount, if not more, listing her merits. That’s the basis of a person, he supposes. A balance of good and bad qualities. Did he have a balance? Did he have just as many good qualities as he did bad?

It gnawed at him for days, the thought of him actually being a good person lurking in the back of his mind like a predator watching its prey. Every time he tried to work on something else the thought of him actually being a good guy slithered into his line of sight.

Nine months into college the seniors were clearing out and everyone else was getting ready to bail home. He only had three credits left until he could graduate early and actually look for a job. So he set himself up for some summer classes instead of just doing one semester next year. Which meant after this summer there was a possibility that he could ditch Dickie with a good excuse.

The cynic in him was telling him that the sooner he ditches the blonde the better. Though the human side of him was strongly debating the subject. As much as he hated to admit it, he liked Dickie, she was amusing and so upbeat. It was like watching a puppy entertaining itself, eventually the happiness of the scene would get to you. Ditching her forever didn’t seem like a good idea, or a happy one at that. 

He still didn’t like people, the only ‘people’ he liked was Dickie and maybe his cousin Galileo, but that was it. But either way he found himself at a beach party to celebrate the end of the school year. 

Of course people avoided him, or he avoided people, either way he was in his own little bubble again. He wasn’t complaining though, being by himself wasn’t always horrible. Though the bubble soon popped. 

“Gyro!” Someone called through the crowd, seconds later Dickie had pushed herself through the crowd. Her hair had grown out a little, while it usually hovered above her shoulders it had been awhile since she got it cut, so now it was at least an inch past her shoulders. Not to mention she was decked out like a full on hippie. She wore a white shoulderless shirt with loose sleeves, a brown vest, salmon bell bottoms, pink round sunglasses (despite it being night), and to top it all off she was carrying worn down birkenstocks in her hand.

“I didn’t think you’d actually come!” 

“I didn’t want to, but I have nothing better to do.” Dickie chuckled and swatted his arm.

“You’re always so grouchy, lighten up! One more week of class and we’re out of here for summer. Maybe the heat wave will thaw that cold heart of yours and actually have some fun.”

“Can’t. I signed up for summer classes to get my last three credits.” Dickie stopped swaying to the muffled music and looked at him like he had just slapped her mother.

“You’re doing summer classes?” She sounded absolutely baffled.

He rolled his eyes, “I don’t want to wait until December to graduate. The sooner I get an actual job the better.”

Her smile quirked a little but she managed to keep it in a frown. “Ambitious huh?”

“More like I would like to be able to buy more than three things at the grocery store.”

“Can’t your dad spot you some cash?” The mention of his father made his heart twinge ever so slightly. Good old Fulton Gearloose, he was a wannabe inventor, working out of a shed near the city dump that he called Fulton’s Fix-It Shop. His wife, Gyro’s mom, was never really around when he was a kid. So much so that it took him three months to realize she’d left for good.

Gyro grew up with insults directed towards him, but the ones that infuriated him the most were the ones directed towards his father. The ones that demeaned him and called him a crackpot, an old man that belonged in the looney bin. Where Gyro saw his dad as he truly was, a kind, gentle old soul who loved making things. Growing up all of his toys were handmade by his father, the shelves and the desks. Full of splinters, but every prick and scrape was worth it to see his father smile his biggest smile. 

He loved Gyro, despite all the shit that Gyro had to throw at him. I’m a boy, I like boys, I’m getting picked on, my stomach doesn’t feel good. Every problem, no matter how minute, Fulton always helped deal with. He felt bad now, making his father suffer through both of their problems. He couldn’t remember a time where he helped his father out of a situation, and the thought that he was a burden sits in his stomach like an anchor.

Losing his father may have been the hardest thing Gyro had to ever deal with. Nothing filled him with more sorrow and grief, not even Akita or 2-BO. Those two were a problem that could eventually be solved. Apologizing to his father, helping him through his own ordeals, that was a problem that could never be solved.

Instead of saying all that he just grumbled, “My dad’s dead.”

Dickie cringed, “Sorry.”

“Right.” He said looking away and crossing his arms over his chest, They had barely been speaking for two minutes and he was already super over this conversation.

“You remember that night when we ran into each other at the boy dorm rooms?” That was a little out of nowhere.

“Uh, yeah?”

“I was visiting my friend Walter when I got a call. My mom’s pretty sick and the hospital called to say she was admitted indefinitely.”  
All the annoyance that had been building up in him crashed to the floor. Like someone just knocked over a house of cards. He did it again, used his words to try and repel her, but it didn’t work. She looked like she was itching to talk to somebody about her mom, and Gyro did like Dickie. So he pushed himself out of his little bubble and motioned for her to follow him.

They walked down the beach away from the party in silence. Eventually the only noise was the waves lapping up and hitting the sand. She kept giving him confused side eyes and looked more and more anxious. 

Eventually he forced himself to talk, “I’m sorry that happened. Do you know how much?” He couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence.

She shrugged, tense and a little closed off, which was unusual for her. “She was diagnosed with some complicated lung disease three years ago, given six months, but she’s still here. At least for now.”

He was actually impressed, lung diseases could be absolutely brutal. “She sounds tough.”

“She is, she’s been through a lot of shit. I’m just scared. Of losing her.”

For another-kind-of-awkward kind-of-not moment, Gyro was debating on what to say. It had been way too long since the last time he comforted someone. That ‘someone’ being 2BO, and he was a machine. A machine that, at the end of the day, didn’t really have emotions. Just a malware and a myriad of screens and wires.

“It’s scary, losing someone close. But in a way it’s kind of… good?”

“Good?”

He shrugged, kind of digging himself in a hole. “My dad, one really important person, even my grandmother. Waking up one day and hearing the news that they were, gone. It was terrifying, and a little lonely, but at the end of the day I get to have a lot to look forward to. I get to live for them, I get to try and be a legit scientist like my dad always wanted. I debated not even going to college, but I knew he would want me to. Everything I’ve done recently, it’s been for him.”

Dickie blinked, a little startled. Eventually, her expression melted away and revealed a more relaxed and happy expression. “That’s… actually kind of sweet. For you anyway.”

He groaned, “If you tell anyone else about what I’m saying I will bash your knees in with a hammer.”

She snorted and hooked they’re arms together, “You being a secret softie will stay between us, scouts honor.”

Behind them, someone at the party lit off fireworks. The first ones squeals made Gyro jump a bit but once he realized what was happening he forced his heartbeat to calm down. He didn’t know someone even brought fireworks.

Like how he didn’t know that Dickie’s mom would die in the upcoming months, or how he would actually get a job with the richest duck in the world despite his questionable background. He didn’t know he was going to build the super suit for Duckburg’s own hero, a hero that wouldn’t destroy the city. He didn’t know he was going to reunite with his first real project, or how things are going to get crazy between Scrooge and Dickie. 

He didn’t know any of that, and in that moment. Just watching fireworks with his only real friend on a beach. For once, he didn’t mind not knowing everything.


End file.
